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"Come for me, Marguerite," he whispered roughly.
There was nothing easy about it. She reacted as if her mind was fighting every wave but the body would not be denied. She bucked, small movements on the chair, her grip slipping to his thighs, clutching at his hips as the orgasm took her so violently that she broke free of his mouth. When she tucked her head under his chin a small moan came out of her. She pressed against his chest, holding back the sound as she jerked, her breath shallow and fast.
It reminded him of the aftermath of a seizure, the disorientation, the twitching of the limbs. A moment of unease gripped him, making him wonder if he was in over his head after all.
Then he remembered his words to Violet. Something or someone had made Marguerite into this. But he believed that her strength and the intriguing combination of items she'd become were in spite of those circumstances, not just because of them.
He could handle this. They both could. Because at least for this weekend she was his. And he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.
Chapter Seven
Before she could recover her wits and try to re-weld her considerable shields in place, he bent and lifted her up in his arms, guiding her arm so it was around his neck.
Her other hand stayed curled in his shirt front as he lifted her, turned and moved out of the living area toward the wide staircase to the second landing.
"What are you doing? Why are you - "
"Carrying you. "
"Put me down. " Her voice was weak, her body still moving with sexy convulsive shudders that made his cock even harder.
"That's 'Put me down, Master', and it should have a please at the front and a question mark at the end. "
Marguerite ground her teeth. "Would you please put me down?"
"No. Just hold on. "
She tightened her grip but realized immediately she was quite safe. She'd never thought of herself as a woman who could be carried, because of her height and just. . .
Well, because it had never occurred to her. Since he wouldn't release her she was forced to experience being held in a man's arms, a man apparently strong and balanced enough to carry her up the stairs two at a time with nary a break in pace. It put her body in close proximity to his, of course. Her arm around his neck, her side pressed against him and the cloth of her open shirt crumpled in between. Her breasts were still bare, such that he was indulging himself in a thorough study of their liberal movements caused by his strides.
"You should keep your eyes on the road," she said, noting how far up the stairs they were.
"Marguerite, in another minute, I'm going to gag you. "
"I thought we'd already covered restraints. "
"First off, there may be overlap in the requirements that will bring restraints into play again. Second, a gag is not a restraint. It's a life-saving device to keep me from strangling you. Hush now. "
"My suitcase - "
"Robert put it in our room. "
"Our room. What - " She closed her eyes at his look. Sucking in a deep breath, she made a concentrated effort to try and conform to the rules. "May I ask a question?"
"You may. "
"Why would we be sharing a bedroom?"
"You know the answer to that. Being a sub is about being available to your Master's desires at all times. "
She would be sharing the same room with him, possibly the same bed. And while she'd laid down the rule of no sex, how could she have anticipated or even framed a rule of "no intimacy"? She would have been better off allowing sex and then perhaps he wouldn't have put so much effort into the other. Or perhaps the best way to have avoided the trap was not to have faced the hunter at all.
He took her into a bathroom large enough to be a master bedroom. With its separate sauna and hot tub it reminded her of the kind of bathhouse the Romans might have favored. Towels stacked next to a tray covered by a hand towel drew her attention to a shallow square tub filled with steaming water about three feet deep. He lowered her to her feet as effortlessly as he had lifted her and she found she needed to hold on to him a moment to steady herself, the aftereffects of the orgasm still affecting her.
"I'm going to undress you and lay you in that pool, massage your muscles with the jets. " He drew her forward and uncovered the tray, revealing a gleaming line of shaving implements, lotions and creams. "And when you're lying there relaxed, I'll spread your legs and shave your pussy. Make it smooth for my touch. Preparing and handling a sub's body intimately is a critical part of being a submissive and a pleasure to a Master. "
He was sure she had no idea she'd gone as white as a sheet. Calling on the streak of ruthlessness that he'd employed before in the face of a sub's fear, he used it now with calculated, benevolent intent. Knowing the woman in his bathroom was off balance because the world she'd known was tilting on its axis, he was determined to have her tumble safely into his hands.
